


Below the Surface

by vera_invenire



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Erend makes a cameo, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-16 12:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13054275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vera_invenire/pseuds/vera_invenire
Summary: Aloy descends into the dark to rescue a friend. And get some answers.“Got her! She—shit, grab her arm!”“Keep fighting and you’re going to feed the Glinthawks, girl. If you’re lucky.”“Do we take her to Darzavid?” asked one of the guards. He held Aloy’s wrists so tightly she could feel the bones grinding together. Still, she struggled. The man cursed and out of the corner of her eye Aloy saw him lift his arm to strike her head.“Wait,” a new voice called out. “Let me see her.”





	Below the Surface

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide!
> 
> beta by rosefox, who was a wonderful help in a pinch. thank you!

Sneaking past a herd of Red-Eye Watchers, Aloy could do with ease. But avoiding a fervent Nora envoy in the middle of Meridian?

She might need a little more practice at that one.

“Anointed! Anointed!” The older man waved at Aloy as he weaved through the noisy crowd to get to her. “Oh, All-Mother be praised. This is truly a most beneficial sign.” 

Sighing slightly, Aloy slowed so the man could catch up. “Envoy...Bon, was it?” After the battle of the Spire (and some exasperated prodding on Aloy’s part), the Nora had finally sent an envoy to be their voice in Meridian. Aloy was glad he was there, but she’d have preferred to keep her distance from the official if possible. She had always gotten along better with outsiders, anyway.

Bon beamed, the smile lines deepening around his face paint. “I am honored the Anointed of the Goddess has remembered me. I did not know you planned to visit Meridian.”

“Just Aloy is fine,” she said. “I’m here to meet with someone.” 

She had been passing through Dawn’s Sentinel when she found the message waiting for her: _Your presence is requested by the Radiant Sun-King Avad regarding a matter of urgent concern._ The royal seal had been very impressive and the guard had handed the scroll over with a frankly disturbing amount of reverence. 

Bon kept pace with her as Aloy turned toward the steps to the palace.

“How are you finding Meridian? Are the talks with the Carja going well?” she asked. 

“Meridian is—a very different place than we Nora are used to,” Bon said tactfully. At least, Aloy thought ruefully, the Matriarchs had found an envoy with a shred of diplomacy toward the tainted, faithless outsiders. Small steps. “Though I am afraid the talks have revealed some difficult challenges.” 

“What kind of challenges?”

A pair of Carja nobles dressed in the latest bright red silks were laughing in the shade of the market. As Aloy and Bon went by, the nobles cut a disdainful look at their fur-trimmed leathers then pointedly turned away. “Expectations, reciprocity, reparations... The Carja and the Nora are very different people. Too different, some fear, to truly come to accord.” 

Aloy frowned. “Sun-King Avad said he is fully committed to peace between the two tribes.”

“This I know and am grateful for,” Bon said, bowing his head. “But the past is a heavy weight and the Sun-King, powerful as he is, cannot change the sensibilities of his subjects so easily. Also I am beginning to suspect some of the Carja may expect concessions the Matriarchs will not be willing to give.” His voice grew quiet. “But we have lost so many, and we cannot afford to be at war with our neighbors. Our room for negotiation is small.”

“You think the Carja are planning to take advantage of the Nora?”

Bon spread his hands. “I know only what I fear.” He brightened. “But now that the Merciful Goddess has sent you here, we may be able to overcome these difficulties, after all.”

“What? No, I’m no envoy.” If Aloy had to sit and hash out endless arguments about minutia instead of actually _doing_ something, she’d probably scream in frustration. She didn’t think screaming would be very good for peace talks. “I wish you success in your dealings with the Carja, I really do. But I can’t help the Nora with their treaties.” 

“But why else would the Goddess have seen fit to send you here to us in the moment of our need, as She always does? Though I must say, I would be remiss in not saying the Matriarchs are eager to know when you plan to return home to the Sacred Land.”

Aloy stopped in the middle of the path.

“Return home,” she said, flatly. 

“But of course. The Matriarchs plan to treat your homecoming as an occasion of great celebration, Anointed One.”

“Because the Matriarchs have always been so well known for their hospitality,” Aloy said, harsh.

Bon stepped back. Aloy feared he was about to kneel which just made her angrier. “I—Anointed One? I am sorry, I meant no offense—”

He hadn’t. But that didn’t stop the resentment of the outcast from welling up as it always did. The Sacred Land was not _home._

“My path is my own. Whether or not it brings me back to the Sacred Land has nothing to do with the Matriarchs, and certainly nothing to do with their _welcome._ ” 

“Please, if I said something to offend—”

“Aloy?”

And there was Erend behind her, walking over to them casually. 

“Esteemed Envoy,” he nodded to the still stricken Bon. “The Sun-King is ready for you,” he said to Aloy. 

Aloy let out a breath. “Right.” But before she followed Erend she sighed deeply, letting the flash of anger fade, and then turned back to the envoy. 

“Bon,” she said. His wide eyes met hers. “I’m sorry. You did nothing to deserve me speaking to you like that. Look, I’m not a negotiator and I can’t—won’t—speak for the Nora. But I’ll see if I can bring your concerns to someone who can help.” 

“Th-thank you, Anointed One.”

“It’s Aloy,” she called over her shoulder, resigned, as she and Erend made their way across the bridge to the Sun Palace.

“Trouble?” Erend asked her.

“No. Just some old wounds that shouldn’t be poked,” she said. At Erend’s nod the palace guards let them through to the inner keep. “You know what this is about?”

“Not a clue. They’re keeping this one quiet,” he said.

“Well, that sounds encouraging. Thanks for stepping in back there, by the way.” _Before I almost bit a poor man’s head off for someone else’s crime._

“Pff, don’t mention it. I mean, hey, for once I got to be the one rescuing you,” he said.

“Don’t get used to it,” she said, dry.

“Heh.”

*****

Erend left her in an open, sun-dappled terrace where Sun-King Avad, 14th Luminance of the Radiant Line, was bent over a pile of maps and documents, consulting with the Blameless Marad.

“Aloy!” said Avad as he straightened. He smiled. “It is good to see you.”

Every once in a while Aloy wondered about the correct formalities for addressing the Sun-King. Knowing the Carja, there was likely a list of titles and genuflections due to the ruler of the Sundom, but no one had ever bother to tell her what they were.

In point of fact, her lack of bowing and scraping with Avad might well have been why he seemed to like her in the first place. 

“Avad,” she said, smiling slightly back at him. “You sent a message for me?”

“Always right to the point. Yes, I’m afraid I did.” He waved her over to look at the maps. “Tell me, do you know the area around the Spurflints?”

“South of Copper Deeps? It’s in the middle of nowhere, but yes, I’m familiar with it. Why?”

Avad gestured to Marad, who handed Aloy a map of the eastern Sundom. “We need a discreet tracker familiar with the outlands. There is reason to believe a small group of Carja nobles have stolen a relic from the royal vaults and fled with it to somewhere deep in the Spurflints, possibly in search of ruins.”

“That sounds strange,” Aloy said. A wide section of the map was circled, covering most of the barren land leading right up to the impassable mountains. 

Absently, she tapped her Focus to copy it for later viewing and ignored the suddenly interested look Marad gave the device. “What kind of relic are we talking about? Why did they want it? And why would they bring it _there_ of all places?”

“That’s much of the problem - we don’t know,” Marad said. 

“The relic was one of the original holy books of the Carja. Well, not original,” Avad admitted. “An illuminated copy made generations ago. It recounts the holy pilgrimage of the First Sun-King, who led his people from the Savage East into what would become the Sundom.”

“What is particularly interesting is the thieves did not take the Leaves of the Old Ones, which were nearby and would have been much more valuable - monetarily _and_ politically,” Marad said. “Instead, they only took this supplemental record. Still priceless, of course, but unless they grabbed the wrong relic by mistake, we believe there was something in this record specifically that they wanted.”

“But you must understand, these are not just holy texts,” Avad said, his gaze somber. “They are the words of the fist Carja, the blessing of the holy Sun that guided our people out of darkness.”

“Are you sure this relic wasn’t taken for religious reasons?” Aloy asked.

“At this point, we are not sure of anything. Though admittedly the likely thieves do not seem the type to be driven by religious concerns,” said Avad.

“And who are these thieves, exactly?” Aloy asked.

Marad said, “A handful of young nobles, judging by who among high society has been conveniently missing for the last couple weeks. Mostly they are the kind who like to dally in scandalous adventures, but not in outright rebellion. 

“But two are of note: Inquiring Kiradan, a young and up-and-coming scholar with a longstanding interest in early Carja history, and Darzavid Khane Aram, whose interests have proven to be rather more—seditious.”

“Shadow Carja?” Aloy asked. 

“Alas, one does not need to be part of a demon-worshiping separatist cult to still qualify as troublesome,” said Marad.

“Darzavid is from a faction unhappy with our current policy of tolerance with the other tribes,” said Avad. “He believes that Meridian—and all of the Sundom—should be for the Carja and the Carja alone. He disavowed Helios during the Liberation, but has managed to spread his dissident opinions among the young nobility to a concerning degree. And two weeks ago he vanished into the Spurflints with a stolen relic, a small cadre of high-blood Carja, and a not insignificant group of hired laborers.”

“Miners, mostly,” said Marad.

“We fear the expedition to be political in nature, but we’re not quite sure how,” said Avad. “Not to mention the powerful families who will be very distraught to hear their sons and daughters died out in the desert.”

“We’ve already sent several search parties to look for them, but the area is large and the terrain harsh, inhospitable to larger patrols,” Marad added.

Aloy raised an eye at Marad, the spymaster of the Sundom in all but name. “All this, and you still let this man out of your sight?”

“My dear, you insult me,” Marad sniffed. “I embedded one of my most promising agents to keep an eye on the situation. In fact, I believe you to be well acquainted with her.”

Aloy straightened up in surprise. “Vanasha?”

“Indeed. She has quite a gift for managing wayward nobles—as I’m sure you remember. But something seems to have gone wrong.” 

“Usually Vanasha is diligent in making covert reports,” Avad said. “But she’s missed her last three check-ins.”

That wasn’t good. Vanasha liked to play at seeming a dilettante, but she was far too competent to let things get out of control unless the situation was dire.

Marad gestured to the map. “This is the last place Vanasha made contact with our messengers, at Day’s Height. The guardsmen reported the convoy went south with enough provisions to last for weeks, but—”

“But there’s no way through that mountain range. They should have turned back by now,” Aloy murmured.

The whole situation may have seemed like an exasperatingly dumb idea gone wrong, but Vanasha had showed up when Aloy called for arms. Aloy wouldn’t abandon her now.

“I’ll head out to the Spurflints today,” she said. 

Avad let out a breath. “I’ve begun to fear I may spend the rest of my days repeating this, but thank you, Aloy. The Sundom is forever grateful for the help you have given.” He reached out and pressed her hand between both of his. “And, as always, so am I.” 

“Don’t thank me yet. I still have to find them.”

Avad inclined his head to her. “And by the Sun’s mercy, I hope you bring them home.” 

Marad walked her out of the palace, settling details about provisions Avad insisted be made available to Aloy for her trek into the Spurflints. 

“There is one more thing,” Aloy said.

“Ah,” said the Blameless Marad. “The Nora envoy.”

Aloy eyed him. “And how could you possibly know about that already?”

“My dear, I know near everything.” Before Aloy could shoot back that he sure didn’t know what was going on in the _Spurflints_ , he said, “Though I am curious about your estrangement from your native tribe.”

Aloy was quiet for a moment. The truth was, her feelings for the Nora would never be simple—the people who worshiped her when she saved them from destruction, the people who shunned her when she had needed them most. 

“The Nora aren’t my tribe. Not really. But that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve peace.”

“Hm. Well, I’ll put some words in the right ears, see if that will oil the wheels, as the Oseram are fond of saying. I make no guarantees, mind you. Common ground is sadly hard to find some days. But on behalf of the Sun-King I promise you this—we _will_ keep looking for it,” he said.

At the end of the day, that was all anyone could really do.

Aloy nodded to Marad, and then left for the desert. 

*****

The problem with the Spurflints was that there was _nothing there_. Nothing but rocks and dusty shrubs. Hardly anyone traveled there, preferring the better-tended and provisioned roads to the west. The few outposts in the area, like Day’s Height, were barely manned. 

The upside was it made tracking a mid-size convoy surprisingly easy. If you had a Focus and a place to start, that is. 

She made good time with a Strider she overrode along the way, stopping only to talk to the few locals she passed about any convoys that might have come through recently. 

There was indeed a convoy, the locals confirmed, though they hadn’t seen any sign of it since it first went by. Some of the wagons were even filled with noble brats, if you could believe it, who wailed at having to walk in the Sun for more than a minute. Probably they were all dead by now, the locals mused. The Sun’s judgment was harsh on fools, as was only just.

It was enough of a lead to point Aloy in the right direction.

Aloy rode and rode until the mountains appeared on the horizon and grew larger every mile she traveled, with no sign of the convoy other than the fading trail. She thought about Vanasha, out of contact for weeks at that point, and grimly kept going. 

The desert didn’t treat the ruins of the Old Ones very well, but even so, she began to see crumbling post-like structures—signs?—along the way. _Marad said the group may be in search of ruins,_ Aloy thought. 

The convoy tracks led her right up to the mountains. Aloy dismounted the Strider and made her way closer on foot, her Focus scanning for any sign of life among the dips and rises of the rocks.

There! Her Focus detected movement below by a rocky overhang, tucked into the foot of the mountains. 

_Walk in or sneak in?_ Aloy thought. She couldn’t be sure this far away, but it looked like there was more activity somehow coming from deeper in the mountains. A path? A mine? _Let’s see what we’re dealing with first._

Carefully, Aloy eased her way between loose rocks, padding cautiously over pebbles and sand, getting closer to a rocky clearing she could just make out. Was that an encampment? She edged closer.

But her attention was divided. She lost her footing, swallowing her yell as she skidded down a sharp incline and nearly fell right on top of a large mound of dirt.

...a very familiar mound of dirt, piled in a highly distinctive manner with bits and pieces of metal shining in the middle.

A Rockbreaker mound. Right next to the encampment.

“Oh, great,” Aloy said, voice low. 

Maybe the Rockbreaker wasn’t nearby, she thought as she instinctively loosened her bow and warily looked around for other Rockbreaker signs. She hadn’t run across many of the machines—besides the one in the quarry and the Claws Beneath, memorably—but had noted that Rockbreakers tended to travel in circuits when they weren’t being agitated by mining operations. Sometimes it would be months or years before a Rockbreaker returned to the area, Aloy told herself. As long as nothing was actively attracting them, she might not have to deal with the ugly, irritatingly powerful machine at all.

Just then, a series of explosions—Blaze cannisters, _of course_ —banged and echoed through the mountains, vibrating the ground under her feet.

Cursing under her breath, Aloy crossed into the encampment, still crouched low but much quicker than before. What were they _thinking_? Setting off Blaze explosions here? Did these idiots _want_ to die crushed beneath an avalanche? 

The encampment was a hodgepodge of sturdy, practical tents—empty—and be-tasseled silk pavilions—occupied, and loud with complaining, well-bred voices. 

Aloy snuck closer.

“—and what if we run out of food? Or water? That provisioner was already making noises about rationing—”

“It will be fine, and if it comes to it we’ll just requisition supplies from the locals—”

“ _What_ locals? There’s no one here!”

“We can’t back out now, Darzavid says we’re close.”

A harsh laugh. “Darzavid is as Sun-blind as Helios. I should have listened to Mother.”

“It will be worth it. It will. Darzavid will bring us to the true birthplace of the Carja and our families will be wreathed with honor.”

“Our families will be choked with shame because the children of their houses spent a small fortune on a fool’s errand. It’s been too long! We should confront Darzavid—”

“We can’t back out now!”

“Please stop yelling...”

Aloy’s attention drifted away from the argument and caught on a nearby tent, smaller than the others but still dyed in expensive colors with scrolls spilling out of the tent flap. It seemed someone had brought a small library with them to the desert. Curious, she slipped past some broken mining equipment between the tents and went inside.

Books and scrolls were everywhere, even piled on the small cot. A quick skim showed them to be histories, mostly. An account of the founding of Meridian, the military exploits of the Radiant Khuvadin in the Savage East, a retelling of the Radiant Araman’s pilgrimage that was more fable than history, but still marked up along the margins with extensive notes. A map of the Spurflints with the surrounding area heavily circled and next to it the words _**Up from the Shadow—it’s here!!**_

Aloy poked around a little more in the tent, then let out a small sound of victory. There, tucked underneath the cot, she found a beautifully carved box with the seal of the Sun enameled on top. Locked. Clearly more valuable than anything else she had come across. Aloy shook it slightly and heard the rustling of paper. 

Aloy greatly suspected she had just found Avad’s missing relic. She tucked it into her bag and then, after checking that the nobles were still distracted with their arguing, she crept out of the tent. 

Now to find Vanasha.

*****

The back of the encampment didn’t lead to a mining operation, as the Blaze canisters and scattered mining equipment had led her to suspect.

It led to a ruin. And an odd one, at that. 

There had obviously once been a very large building in the spot, long since collapsed. But behind the detritus was a hole, half covered with fallen rocks that had been carefully removed. Behind that was a tunnel. 

And, of course, the guards. 

Aloy really didn’t want to fight people if she didn’t have to. So she climbed high and made her way to a shadowed perch above the tunnel. She threw a rock in the other direction, drawing the guards’ attention. One moved away from the tunnel entrance. 

Holding her breath, Aloy slowly, slowly lowered herself down behind the remaining guard, landing on near-silent feet then dodging quickly to the right as the guard looked over his shoulder. A beat, another, and the guard turned to face outside once again.

Silent as a Stalker, Aloy padded back further into the dark.

It almost reminded her of a Cauldron, this tunnel, but while the Cauldrons were made with only machines in mind, this structure was obviously made for people, smooth and large, enough to fit crowds of people. New torches intermittently lit the way, throwing light on the walls and the writing on them.

 _RTS_ was the most common, in big, bold lettering. And right by the entrance, _WELCOME TO UTAH_.

Lining the sides of the tunnel were intermittent platforms, between them was a shallow depression holding three metal rods stretching endlessly back into the tunnel. Here and there small rooms opened up in the walls, filled with ancient equipment. Almost all the active hologram interfaces had the same flashing message overlaid on their displays: PLEASE EVACUATE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

(And one datapoint: _“Fucking FARO and their fucking machines and their fucking Focuses. The best, most advanced technology in the world, sure. These damn things will out last the lot of us. Too bad there’ll be no one left to listen to them.” Heavy breathing. “God, please, let someone be left.”_ )

Aloy didn’t have to go far before her progress was stopped by a massive cave-in completely blocking the tunnel. 

“Well, that’s convenient,” she muttered. Looking around, she saw the torches continue through one of the side rooms labeled _Access Corridor_. 

The room led to another tunnel, this one much smaller but with more signs of recent use. And further down, Aloy could hear echoing voices. She turned on her Focus and scanned ten, maybe fifteen people in a wider area up ahead. 

So focused was she on trying to sort out words from echoes that she didn’t even notice the two guards come up behind her.

 _Stupid, stupid,_ Aloy thought even as she fought the men off. No room to pull her bow, and one of the men grabbed her staff and threw it out of the way before she could stop him. She got in a few good blows, heard a nose break under the heel of her hand, but soon enough they had her down with her arms pinned. 

“Got her! She—shit, grab her arm!”

“Keep fighting and you’re going to feed the Glinthawks, girl, if you’re lucky.”

“Do we take her to Darzavid?” asked one of the guards. He held Aloy’s wrists so tightly she could feel the bones grinding together. Still, she struggled. The man cursed and out of the corner of her eye Aloy saw him lift his arm to strike at her head.

“Wait,” a new voice called out. “Let me see her.”

A pause, and then the men wrenched Aloy up to her knees. Lips curling in a snarl, Aloy looked up as a tall woman strolled out of the shadows.

“Well, now,” said Vanasha, cocking her head at the scene. Aloy stopped breathing. “What have we here?” 

Vanasha’s face showed no recognition of Aloy at all. 

“A trespasser, ma’am. She was carrying this,” he said, handing Vanasha the bag with Avad’s relic. “We were just about to deal with her.”

“Hm. I have a better idea. Bring her and come with me.”

*****

They bound Aloy’s wrists with rope and took her to a side room filled with more scrolls, scrawled notes, and mining detritus stacked in crates. 

Vanasha waved at the guards. “She clearly didn’t come here alone. Go check the entrance first, then search the encampment. Thoroughly. See if you can flush anyone else out. I’ll deal with this one.”

The guards shared a look, but then said, “Ma’am,” and left.

After the guards were gone, Vanasha didn’t say anything and, unsure, Aloy didn’t either. But once the echoes of footsteps had faded, Vanasha finally sighed. She turned to Aloy, eyebrow cocked with a smile.

“I must say, you do show up in the most interesting places, little huntress.”

Aloy let out a breath. “And yet, you always seem to be there before me.”

“This is true,” she said, then pulled out a knife. “We don’t have much time.” Efficiently, she cut the ropes binding Aloy, but said, “Keep them around your wrists for now, just in case. What are you doing here? Were you just in the area or…?”

“Avad sent me,” Aloy said, rubbing her wrists.

“Did he? Well, it’s nice having an employer who cares. Is it just you?”

“Just me. Vanasha, what’s going on?”

Vanasha sighed and peaked out the doorway. “A whole lot of foolishness, little huntress.” She walked back over as Aloy re-holstered her weapons. “We may have to wait a bit until they start digging again so they’re distracted.”

“Still waiting for answers,” Aloy pointed out. She tapped her Focus on and pointed it at the door to the tunnel. She wasn’t going to let anyone get the jump on her again.

Vanasha flashed her a smile. “I did so miss your directness. So. We are here, in this death trap in the making, because Inquiring Kiradan thinks all our priests and scholars, generations of Carja legend, are all wrong about where the Carja originally came from. Instead of fleeing through the Savage East and passing through Daytower Pass to the Jewel, Kiradan believes we came up _through the ground_ and that the oldest texts of our people confirm it.”

“Texts like the relic he stole?”

“You know about that?”

“I found it in the encampment. It’s in my bag,” Aloy said.

“You have been busy. Yes, that was his primary source, but he didn’t steal it. Darzavid did. Kiradan may be the one with the theories, but this whole expedition is Darzavid’s plan. Even that gaggle of useless nobles. I still can’t believe he brought them,” Vanasha muttered.

“Why did he?”

“Funds, my dear. Workers and equipment cost money and it was easier to get them to part with theirs if Darzavid promised them an adventure in the bargain. Sadly, I don’t think adventuring suits their tastes.”

“And these people let you join the party, just like that?”

Vanasha leaned back on a stack of crates. “Mm, you’d be astounded how far you can get with a smile and a disinclination to answer straight questions. If there’s one thing you can trust it’s that I am excellent at my job, little huntress.” 

Aloy snorted. “It still doesn’t make sense. Why is Darzavid doing this at all? Why does it matter?”

“Darzavid is... aspirational. If Kiradan is right, it would upend everything the Carja thought we knew about ourselves. It would rewrite our history. I think Darzavid wants to use the findings, real or not, to bolster his family’s status—and maybe to degrade Sun-King Avad’s,” Vanasha said. 

“You think he’ll try to challenge Avad for the throne?” Aloy asked, incredulously. 

“Not necessarily. But given recent history, he may not need to. These past years the Sundom has been fertile ground for discontent. The last thing we need is to add more seeds.” 

Fertile ground, unstable ground. “That reminds me. Outside I saw—”

Her Focus registered a lifesign.

“Someone’s coming,” Aloy said, and in one smooth move Vanasha had pushed Aloy behind the crates. Casually, Vanasha turned and faced the intruder. 

“Oh, Vanasha,” said a new voice. “I didn’t know you were here.”

 _Unknown human male_ , Aloy’s Focus reported. Only one, so that was something. He wore the robes of a scholar, smudges of ink on his fingers and face.

“The dust was making me feel like I was walking through a sandstorm. I thought I could do a little light reading before the next volley.”

“It is getting rather stuffy in there, isn’t? And loud.” The young man rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Kiradan? Is something the matter?” Vanasha asked, tilting her head. 

“No, no…” he said, then sighed and sat on a few crates near where Aloy hid. “Yes. I’m worried. I keep telling them that if they aren’t careful they could destroy any findings before we get to them.”

“Or bring the whole place down on our heads,” said Vanasha.

The young man’s—Inquiring Kiradan’s—head shot up. “Do you think that’s likely?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ve taken precautions,” Vanasha said, not entirely convincing. 

“Yes, of course…” he said. “But that’s not all. Darzavid is—well, he’s making me nervous.”

Vanasha leaned forward. “Has he done anything, Kiradan?”

“No? But he keeps talking about the first families of the Carja, how he’ll be able to prove which families are truly the most blessed under the Sun, who truly deserves power. And who doesn’t. But that’s not—that’s not what we’re _here_ for. By the Sun, we haven’t even _found_ anything yet.”

“Kiradan,” Vanasha said as she rested her hands on his shoulders. “Do you think your theory is right?”

A fervent nod. “It’s here. I may not know exactly what we’ll find, but I know it’s here.”

“Then don’t listen to Darzavid. Let the evidence speak for itself, and you’ll find your truth.”

Another blast cracked through the air. “Sounds like they’re back at work,” said Vanasha.

“I better go back. Don’t want to miss it if they break through.” Kiradan picked up a well-worn journal on his way out, but stopped at the door. “Thanks for listening, Vanasha.”

They waited as his footsteps trailed down the hall. 

“Strange ideas, but he’s a good kid. I think I’ve almost gotten through to him,” Vanasha said, considering. “I’m afraid that was our cue to go, though.” 

Aloy eased out of her hiding place. “Lead the way.”

*****

It turned out the tunnel had caved in in multiple places, hence the controlled explosions to try to punch though. Most of the work was being done in a large open-air cavity just off the main tunnel. Kiradan, Vanasha explained as they snuck through the shadows, was certain the cavity had been created ages ago during the same avalanche that had caused the tunnel to be blocked. He said the truth of the Carja would be found just past that wall of rock, if only they could reach beyond it.

“There are paths up out of the cavity to the surrounding mountains. Dangerous, of course, but I’m sure you’ll be able to manage.”

“If you think I’m going to abandon you here, you’re not as clever as I thought you were,” Aloy said.

“Such flattery. But no, my dear, my work isn’t done yet. I wouldn’t trust Darzavid in the light of the noon Sun, and I certainly don’t trust him here. We’ll get you to the rim of the cavity, then you give me a little love tap on the chin, I’ll play it like you escaped and you come back with reinforcements. It’ll be fun.”

“You have strange ideas of fun.”

Aloy wanted to argue more, but she couldn’t figure out anything else to do, so they crept around the dig site until Vanasha led Aloy to a slanted wall of the cavity, mostly hidden from view. “There—” 

Aloy grabbed Vanasha’s arm. “Wait. There are guards at the top.” 

Vanasha stilled. “There shouldn’t be.”

The laborers just out of sight continued to work, but a chill went down Aloy’s spine and her mouth firmed. “It’s a trap.” She looked around. “Is there any other way out of here?”

Vanasha hesitated. “We can try the natural tunnels. Some of them lead to dead-ends, but it’s the only other way from here.”

“Then that’s where we go.”

They ducked and wove along the edge of the cavity, staying out of sight. Aloy kept an arrow nocked in her bow. Together they made it to the smaller tunnels, much rougher than the main one, pocked along the wall.

And blocking their only way out stood the two guards who had caught Aloy, flanking a tall man with the aristocratic—arrogant—bearing of a Carja noble. He carried a short sword at his hip and a number of small Blaze bombs on his belt. 

“Vanasha,” said the man. “Why am I not surprised.” 

Aloy raised her bow, Vanasha at her back, but it was too late. In seconds they were surrounded by guards and workers holding cudgels in ready hands.

“You didn’t tell me you were throwing a party, Darzavid,” Vanasha said, voice light, but Aloy saw the glint of metal as she palmed a dagger. 

“It’s a surprise party, Vanasha. And it’s just for you.” The man—Darzavid Khane Aram—strolled forward, unafraid. Aloy kept her arrow trained on his chest. Her mind raced, calculating the odds, searching for escape routes that didn’t end with one or both of them dead. It didn’t look good. 

“There were always rumors about you, of course,” he said. “Clearly I should have listened to them. And who is this? A savage, Vanasha, really? And here I thought you had better taste than—no,” he said slowly, eyes caught on Aloy’s hair. “No, that’s not it. This is Avad’s pet Nora.”

“I’m no one’s pet anything. Get closer a little closer and I’ll prove it to you,” Aloy said. And take him hostage, if she could time it right.

Darzavid circled her instead. “Pretty enough, I suppose. I can see how she turned Avad’s head. But still a savage. Why are you here sulking around your betters, savage girl? Did Avad send you?”

Another controlled explosion went off behind her, and the ground rumbled.

And kept rumbling.

“Darvazid?” Kiradan came around some rocks, his eyes wide. “What’s going on? What—what are you doing to Vanasha?”

The rumbling grew louder.

The miners looked uneasy. “Sir,” one of them said, but Aloy cut him off.

“We all need to get out of here. Right now.”

“You make a lot of demands for a—”

“ _Right now_. Your explosions called a Rockbreaker.” Beside her, Vanasha sucked in a breath.

Darzavid laughed. “I never knew the Nora had such imaginations!” 

Beneath her feet the ground shook. Instinct took over and Aloy tackled the dumbstruck Kiradan as Vanasha dove out of the way in the other direction. 

The guards yelled, the floor broke, and the Rockbreaker emerged in a screeching, grinding cacophony. 

“ _Run!_ ” Aloy yelled. She hauled on Kiradan’s robes, but the Rockbreaker was too close, was blocking the way out. Everyone else scattered, running for their lives to the rim of the cavity or disappearing into the natural tunnels. She lost sight of Vanasha. Aloy and Kiradan were cornered by themselves as the machine reared above them.

Only one thing left to do.

Aloy nocked her first blast arrow and let it fly. 

*****

Some time later, the newly released dust coating the air and choking her lungs, Aloy stood over the dead Rockbreaker, cursing as she tried to salvage arrow parts. 

“By the Sun,” Kiradan rasped. He was the only one left in the dig site, everyone else having already fled. Half the cavity had fallen down around them. “By the Sun.” 

Aloy jumped down from the machine carcass. “Did you see which way Vanasha went?” 

The young man just stared at her, half in shock and half in awe. She shook his shoulders. “Kiradan! Where did Vanasha go?”

Blinking, Kiradan’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Then he turned and pointed down the tunnels. “Darzavid grabbed her. They went down there. Would he—is he going to hurt Vanasha?”

Probably, if they hadn’t both been crushed in a cave-in. Who ran into a tunnel during a Rockbreaker attack? 

Vanasha would have fought him off, no question, but Aloy remembered the small Blaze bombs handing from Darzavid’s belt. Grimly, she set off for the tunnels.

“Wait! I’m coming with you,” Kiradan said.

“I don’t need anyone slowing me down,” Aloy said. Especially when the rocks may come down on the heads at any moment.

“I know most of those tunnels,” Kiradan insisted. “I helped chart them when we first got here. There are shortcuts that might help. And,” he said, swallowing, “I’m not going to let Vanasha get hurt. She’s my friend.”

Looking at his scared but earnest face, Aloy believed him.

“Come on, then,” she said.

The first two entrances they passed had collapsed. The third was clear. A small streak of blood smeared the wall, just enough for Aloy to pick up on. “This way.” 

Kiradan grabbed a torch and off they went into the dark.

“I’ve heard of you,” Kiradan said abruptly. She looked back at him. “You’re Aloy. The machine tamer, the Savior of the Spire. She who sees the unseen.”

“Why does that list keep getting longer,” she grumped. “Just Aloy is fine,” she told him. 

“What are you doing here? Why did Darzavid attack Vanasha?”

Aloy wasn’t going to answer that. “The real question is what are _you_ doing here. Why the Spurflints? What makes you think this place is so special?” The ruins were admittedly interesting—the little data she got from her Focus and the pieces she had been able to put together herself had Aloy suspecting it was the remains of some sort of transportation system through the mountains—but she doubted the ruins themselves that had caught Kiradan’s eye.

At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then, “I think this place could show us who we—the Carja—really are. It could show us the truth.”

“You think your people were lying to you about the birth of the Carja?” 

“Not lying, more—mistaken. Our stories talk about us fleeing the Savage East, of a time of trial when the Sun’s gaze was denied us and many fell to the Buried Shadow.” Aloy pressed her lips together as they walked, reminded of Hades and how he had used that very myth to slave the Shadow Carja to his will. “And then Araman saw the light of the Glinthawks and our people were led to the Spire by the Sun’s mercy. That’s what most of our books say. At least, that’s how it was _interpreted_.”

“You think there’s another interpretation?” At a fork in the path, Aloy veered them left.

“The Buried Shadow. Most think it’s a deity, the other half of the glorious Sun. The less devout think it’s a metaphor for the many deaths our people suffered in our time of tribulation. But the language used in the earliest records was very particular. They don’t say the Buried Shadow was a god, or a plague. They say it was something the first Carja _passed through_.”

Aloy stopped in her tracks. The frizz of realization ran through her and she looked at the walls around her with new eyes. “The tunnel. The Buried Shadow was the _tunnel_.”

“Yes! Yes, you see it!” His voice bounced off the close walls and Aloy had to shush him. 

The idea was intriguing, Aloy couldn’t deny that. But. “That doesn’t explain all the secrecy.”

A waist-high pile of rocks blocked their path. Aloy helped Kiradan scramble over them while she warily checked the ceiling. 

“If I can prove I’m right,” he said, “it could upend Carja doctrine. I’d be challenging the temple, maybe even the throne. Darzavid said it would be better to find proof first, then present it so no one could deny the truth. He even got me a copy of one of the pilgrimage records, borrowed from an open-minded priest, a friend of his.”

‘Borrowed.’ Right.

“Still seems awfully complicated and violent for an academic dispute.”

“The situation is a bit extreme, I know. But don’t we have the right to know the truth?”

“Yes,” she said simply. She was the last person to dissuade someone from going to the ends of the earth for answers. “Yes, you do. But do you think the truth is really what Darzavid is after?”

Kiradan hesitated. Aloy pressed on, “I don’t know him personally. But people I do know, people I trust, have all warned that he’s dangerous. That he’s using this expedition to further his own political ends in a way that could hurt the Sundom.”

“What do you care? You’re not even Carja,” he said, bristling a bit.

“No,” she said, dry, “but I do have to deal with the Carja on an alarmingly frequent basis. Like it or not, Carja problems have a tendency to be the world’s problems.” _More than you know,_ she thought. 

“I don’t agree with Darzavid’s politics,” Kiradan said. “But this is important. Where you come from matters. How you got to where you are _matters_. This is about the very soul of the Carja.”

“And you’re okay with Darzavid molding that soul into a shape that fits his views? You’d let him hurt people like me, like Vanasha, to do it?”

“You don’t know that’s what he’ll do. He wouldn’t hurt Vanasha.”

“No? Do you know how I know we’re on the right track, Kiradan?” She pointed. “Because I’ve been following a blood trail.”

The blood was faint and spotty, but definitely there. Aloy’s Focus had been tracking it all this time, and the only thing giving her heart right then was that the blood seemed to be tapering off instead of getting worse, even though it made the track harder to follow.

“Vanasha’s?” Kiradan whispered.

Aloy looked hard at him. “Tell me straight, Kiradan, do you think Darzavid wouldn’t—” 

The ceiling ground about them. Aloy wasted no time, diving out of the way, dragging Kiradan with her, both of them stumbling into a run as the rocks began to fall behind them.

Finally, it seemed to settle. Aloy heaved for breath, her heart pounding. She really did not want to die down here. 

She found Kiradan still huddled on the floor, his robes dusty and ripped. “Are you all right? Any bleeding, broken bones?” she asked.

“No. No.” He covered his face. Aloy itched to press on, but the young man was shaking and she couldn’t leave him now. She settled in a crouch by his side, checking the still-flickering torch to see if air was going to be a problem soon.

Eventually Kiradan collected himself. “I’m sorry. About the Rockbreaker, about Vanasha... all of it,” he said. “I just wanted...”

“You want to know where you came from,” Aloy said.

He looked at her. “Doesn’t everyone?” he asked.

Without thinking, Aloy slowly reached up to the necklace that held Rost’s charm and an ancient, chipped pendant in the shape of a globe. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess they do.” 

Kiradan stared at his hands. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

 _He’s a good boy,_ Vanasha had said, and Aloy thought she was starting to agree with her. 

Aloy stood and offered him a hand. When Kiradan looked up, she said, soft but firm, “Then help me make it right.”

After a moment, Kiradan grasped her wrist and let her pull him up.

*****

“That wasn’t there before,” Kiradan said. They had been walking for a long time, long enough that Aloy had started to worry about food and water. A new fork in the path lay ahead, this one half concealed by fallen rocks. 

“The ruckus must have shook it loose,” Aloy said. Her Focus narrowed in on the tiniest smudge of blood. “Looks like they went this way.”

This path slanted sharply down. Suddenly Aloy noticed the air wasn’t stale anymore; there was more moisture in the air the farther down they went.

“Oh, wow,” Kiradan breathed. Aloy had to agree.

The claustrophobic tunnel abruptly fell away to reveal a massive cavern, a deep pool of water at the bottom and a large gash of sky above. Aloy could even make out fish in the pool. 

“There,” Kiradan hissed, pointing to the side bank. “Is that them?”

“It is,” Aloy breathed. Vanasha was there, limping but alive. Darzavid stood just behind her, clutching one of his bombs—so that was how he had gotten her to cooperate. “It looks like they’re heading to that passageway on the other side of the cavern.” Aloy scanned the room, then nodded. “We going to follow them, but not that way. We’re going to climb above them. The rocks down there will block their view and we should get to the passage before them if we’re quick.”

“Climb how?”

Aloy nodded with her chin. “By going up that.” There were pikes embedded in the walls, even a few platforms. Clearly they weren’t the first people to find the cavern. “The Nora have something similar called Brave trails. Shouldn’t be too hard to manage.”

“Maybe not for _you_ ,” Kiradan said. He shook his head. “I can’t climb that way. I can go down and follow them on foot.”

“All right. But make sure to stay far back, you understand? Don’t let them hear you coming.”

Aloy re-secured her weapons, then made the first leap. 

She had to test each handhold along the way, but most of them were machine metal and had stood the test of time. It wasn’t long before she was most of the way across and Vanasha and Darzavid came into view again.

She had the perfect shot. 

But she saw the bright green bomb in Darzavid’s hand and hesitated. She didn’t want to risk it going off with Vanasha so close. 

She started to out-pace them up on her makeshift Brave trail. Only one more jump and she’d get to the slightly elevated passageway before they did. 

She jumped, found a solid hold.

And then the wall crumbled beneath her. 

For a split second her fingers tried to find purchase in the rock, but it was no use. She fell, hard, banging her knee and elbow as she tried to cushion the fall. This was not her lucky day.

“What was that?” Darzavid snapped from behind her. 

“Maybe it was a Snapmaw. Do you want to go check it first, Darzavid? Hey, watch the hands!”

Aloy got to her feet and freed her bow just as Darzavid shoved Vanasha in front of him. 

“You always have to make an entrance, don’t you,” Vanasha said. 

“Well, you know me,” Aloy replied.

“You followed us!” Darzavid said. 

“You didn’t exactly make it hard. Put the bomb down, Darzavid.”

“Oh, no, I like it right here. Shoot me, and it goes off, I swear it.”

“Why don’t we all take a moment and reflect on some more pressing concerns. Like how we’re all going to get out of here.”

“Not all of us do,” Darzavid said, turning the bomb in his hand.

“By the Sun’s holy light,” Kiradan said, walking into sight, staring at Aloy.

Darzavid whipped around to face him. Aloy adjusted her aim to make the killing shot. “You! Are you a traitor, too?!”

“Darzavid, _look_ ,” Kiradan urged and pointed—not at Aloy, but behind her. 

She didn’t want to take her eyes off Darzavid for a moment, but Vanasha’s eyes widened, too, so Aloy eased to the side until she could almost keep Darzavid and the wall behind her in view.

Only it wasn’t a wall anymore. It had been covered up with plaster instead of rock, but Aloy’s crash had ripped a hole in it. And there, just visible by the light coming into the cavern was another room.

And in the center of it, a large metal post molded into the form of a Carja glyph.

“That’s the seal of Araman, the first Sun-King,” Kiradan said, voice blank. Then, “That’s it. Darzavid, that’s it! We found it.”

Completely ignoring bow and bomb, Kiradan rushed past the little stand-off and tore at the rest of the wall. Darzavid hesitated a moment, but then he followed right behind him. Vanasha quickly moved to Aloy’s side.

“You couldn’t take him out?” Aloy muttered to Vanasha.

“The bombs were a concern. Also, I wanted to see if he had a plan. Surprise, he didn’t. We found this place by pure luck.”

“We’re going to need some more luck to get out of here. The path we came by is blocked.”

“Give me the torch,” Darzavid snapped at Kiradan. He climbed into the hole, Kiradan behind him. Vanasha and Aloy traded a glance, but Aloy’s curiosity got the better of her. She stepped into the room.

Darzavid waked the perimeter, pushing relics here and there, muttering to himself. Kiradan stood stock still in the middle of the room and just stared. When Aloy walked up beside him, he slowly turned to her, eyes wide.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “That’s Araman’s glyph, anyone would recognize it. But the rest of it…”

The rest of it was mostly made of half rotted wood and ubiquitous machine parts—almost all Watcher and Strider components, to Aloy’s experienced eye, the kind that could be found anywhere. But the poles around the room were all hung with charms for safety and good luck, for protection and remembrance. 

Aloy knew, because she’d seen them all before. And oh, the Matriarchs were going to _love_ this. 

“This is a Nora shrine,” Aloy said. 

“What? Don’t be ridiculous,” Darzavid said.

“I was raised by a Nora, I think know what I’m talking about,” Aloy retorted. 

“They said that Araman led his people through the Savage East, persecuted by the uncivilized tribes, ” Kiradan said slowly, staring at the glyph. “Then the Buried Shadow found them and they suffered greatly.”

“These are memorials for fallen kin,” Aloy said.

“Enough out of you,” Darzavid said. “Avad may be fool enough to listen to a Nora, but the rest of us know better.”

“We weren’t persecuted by the Nora,” Kiradan said as if he hadn’t heard Darzavid, brushing his hand over the memorial. “We _were_ Nora.”

“To be fair, those two things aren’t mutually exclusive,” Aloy couldn’t help but mutter.

And it did make sense, so much so that Aloy couldn’t believe she didn’t make the obvious connection before. All that survived of mankind was descended from the Cradles. And where was the nearest Cradle?

All-Mother Mountain. Where the Nora lived and worshiped, and shunned any who trespassed among the ruins of the Metal World. Or who took their cursed teachings for their own—like Araman’s fabled Leaves of the Old Ones. 

Of course the Nora cast Araman and his followers out. It was the most typically Nora thing Aloy could imagine.

“No. _No._ The Carja are the superior tribe. We are _better_ than the savages, our lines are not tainted by them.”

“Darzavid, look around you,” Vanasha said. “History is telling you otherwise.”

“It’s not true,” he snarled. Then his chin jerked up. “I won’t let it be.”

He threw the Blaze bomb at a shrine in the back of the room. Immediately it exploded, knocking them all back and to the ground. In just a few moments, half the relics in the room caught were caught up in the blaze. 

Her head spinning, Aloy coughed and staggered to her feet. She felt a tug on her arm—someone was pulling Aloy back, away from the fire. 

“Time to move, huntress,” Vanasha half-yelled in Aloy’s ringing ears. She dragged Aloy to the entrance. Kiradan made to follow them out, coughing and batting frantically at a small fire caught in his robe, but Darzavid jerked him back.

"No, you are going to help me destroy this abomination," he said, shaking the stunned Kiradan. "This is your fault! We are going to make sure this never—" Vanasha kicked Darzavid in the chest, sending him crashing back into a blazing shrine. Aloy grabbed Kiradan's hand and out they all ran for the pool just outside. 

Inside the room, Darzavid had lost his mind. Over the snapping and crackling of the fire, they could hear him raging and throwing the rest of his bombs into every corner, stoking the blaze higher. It wasn't long before the yelling sounded less of hate than of escalating panic. 

Smoke billowed out of the room, obscuring him. And then the yelling stopped.

Vanasha pulled Kiradan to the pool, dousing the fire on his robes. Aloy kept an eye on the fire, but it wasn’t spreading, couldn’t get a purchase on the bare rock of the cavern. 

It took a long time for the fire to go out. 

*****

“He’s dead. And it’s all gone.”

Aloy and Vanasha hadn’t let Kiradan go near the shrine room once the fire died down. There were things he didn’t need to see. There were things _Aloy_ didn’t need to see, honestly.

“I don’t know about all gone,” said Vanasha. Aloy followed her gaze to another small cave in the wall, the opening covered in crumbling plaster.

There were other rooms, all of them filled with Nora charms and Carja glyphs.

“Poor Darzavid. Even in death he couldn’t wipe out what he hated. May the Sun burn his soul in retribution.”

Kiradan hands fisted. “He was the only one who believed me,” he said. 

“He took your ideas and twisted them for his own ends,” Aloy said.

“And we believe you, Kiradan.” Vanasha touched his shoulder. “And now you can prove your theories. Don’t let Darzavid’s hate take that victory from you.” 

“We need to find a way out of here,” Aloy said. With the path behind them blocked, the only way out would be through. “I think—up there, it looks like there might be another tunnel.”

“...you expect us to climb that?” Vanasha asked.

Honestly, these Carja. “I’ll climb it, then toss you down a rope. But we may want to grab any supplies we can first.” They were in the middle of a mountain range and Aloy didn’t know how much further they had to go in these damn tunnels before they could get out again. She still had some provisions in her bag, but they wouldn't last long with three of them.

Vanasha peered at the pool. “I think there’s fish?”

So Aloy fished, picking off meals one by one while Vanasha and Kiradan searched for anything that could pass for water bags and torches. Silently, Aloy passed the stolen relic to Vanasha, who tucked it into her own bag. Neither of them told Kiradan. Aloy suspected Darzavid was going to get the full blame for that one.

The climb up wasn’t bad. ( _Brave trails_ , Aloy thought, with a wry smile. It was staring right at her the whole time.) But the cave was long, and after the first day Aloy was doubly glad she had made them restock. The path led back to the man-made RTS tunnel and from there the going was a lot easier, if both nerve-racking and horribly dull. How far did it go? When would their supplies run out? 

Luck was with them. They found a portion of the tunnel where the ceiling had given way to open sky and they climbed out, glad to finally come out from the dark. 

Vanasha took a deep breath of the clean mountain air and spun around in a tight circle. “By the Sun, I'm glad that's over," she said. "And would you look at that. The view is beautiful.”

It was. Snow-capped mountains filled the horizon, dipping down into lush green valleys with the faintest view of a massive Metal World ruin, its skeletal towers still reaching to the sky.

“Where are we?” asked Kiradan.

Aloy cocked her head to the side with an idea. The Matriarchs wouldn’t like it.

But then, since when did she care about what the Matriarchs thought? If she had to, she’d apologize to Teersa later.

“That,” Aloy said, pointing to one of the largest mountains on the horizon, outlined by the dawn, “is All-Mother Mountain. And this is the Sacred Land.” She turned to face Kiradan and Vanasha. “You said it was important to understand where you come from. And it is, to a point. But it's more important to know where you're going. There's a lot of bad blood between the tribes that won't wash away easy. But there are people on both sides willing to reach out. If you play it right, you could use what you know to help them do that. Help them find their lost common ground."

"Oh, but me—I don't know how—"

Vanasha nudged him. "This is a great opportunity, you know. Think of all the history you could uncover. You could rewrite all those musty old books."

"And I know people who will help," Aloy said, thinking of Envoy Bon. "Just do what you've been doing—find the truth. Share it with those willing to listen. We'll let the diplomats take it from there."

"I…yes. Yes, alright." Kiradan nodded his head slowly and then with more vigor. He straightened his thin shoulders and faced the mountain square on. "People should know the truth. We need to know where we came from," he said, glancing at Aloy, "so we know how to move forward." 

Vanasha thumped him on the shoulder. "I always knew you were a quick study," she said. Kiradan grinned at her. 

Aloy took a deep breath of the sharp mountain air and considered the looming presence of All-Mother Mountain before her. They would tell the truth, yes. The truth about the Carja and the Nora. And maybe…

"I'll bring you to the Matriarchs," she said. "Start by talking with High Matriarch Teersa. Listen to what she may have to tell you. And then…"

She played with the globe pendant around her neck, thought of Elisabet, and lifted one corner of her mouth in a smile.

“...and then if you want to learn more, if you're ready, I’ll show you the Cradle.”


End file.
